


Good Man, A

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-18
Updated: 2003-06-18
Packaged: 2019-04-27 07:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14420040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: Mulder and Scully, on a stakeout.





	Good Man, A

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).

 

Good Man, A

## Good Man, A

### by Shoshana

TITLE: A Good Man   
AUTHOR: Shoshana  
EMAIL ADDRESS: DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Gossamer and by request. SPOILER WARNING: Fire, Lazarus, Tooms  
**RATING: PG-13**  
**CLASSIFICATION: VA**  
KEYWORDS: Mulder, Scully, UST  
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully, on a stakeout. DISCLAIMER: These characters do not belong to me. NOTE: Thanks to Sallie, my wonderful beta reader! 

A Good Man  
By Shoshana 

Saturday, April 30, 1994  
11:52 p.m. 

"Go ahead and get some sleep, Scully. We may be here all night." 

Mulder cracked another sunflower seed inside his mouth, separating the kernel from the shell. He used thumb and forefinger to extract the useless hull, flipping it out the cracked window of the unmarked Bureau car. If Scully hadn't been around, he would been working on his personal best spitting distance, but she was, and he had yielded to her sensibilities on the matter a long time ago. 

Over a year together and he still didn't know what she'd ordinarily do on a normal Saturday night. She didn't seem to date much, maybe not at all. He remembered she'd had a date last August, that weekend they had tracked the Jersey Devil. After that, nothing. 

He wasn't about to pry into her business, but the longer she lasted as his partner, the more he wanted to know. Once in awhile, he'd learn something new, something she'd allow him to hear when her defenses were down. Like tonight, when they'd been sitting for four hours, waiting for a small-time criminal who'd been ID'd in a brutal robbery of an elderly woman. The warning signs were there; his behavior was bound to escalate soon. 

Violent Crimes had asked Mulder to evaluate the file, and he had volunteered to do stakeout duty. He hadn't told Scully until Friday afternoon. In fact, he hadn't planned on telling her at all, but she pilfered the file out of his briefcase at lunchtime. She'd been looking for something else and pulled the distinctly marked file from his carryall by mistake. 

By the time he'd returned to his seat, she was ready with a whole battery of queries about the suspect. Prevarication was out of the question; a note from the SAC was plastered on the front of the folder. He invited her along, as if he had a choice in the matter. Scully would never let him go alone, not if she had already evaluated the risks. 

Next time he'd have to be more careful with his personal effects... Aw, hell, what did it matter? She always found out, one way or another. Might as well put up with her constant curiosity. It made her the best investigator, the best partner he had ever worked with. 

The best friend, too. 

She was icing on the cake. Gravy on his mashed potatoes. The finest hors d'oeuvre on the menu. 

Mulder chuckled quietly, amused by the meanderings of his mind. Freud would have a heyday with his psyche, visualizing this beautiful woman as culinary delights. 

He was a dead man if she ever found out. 

"Mulder?" 

"Yeah?" 

Why was his voice so thin, she wondered. "What's so damn funny?" 

"I thought you were asleep." 

He popped another seed into his mouth. She smiled at his nervousness. 

"No. Can't sleep. You wanna tell me what you're grinning about?" 

"NO!" he said, with a little too much force. 

Ah, so he was thinking about something potentially embarrassing. She decided to have a little fun on this deathly boring stakeout. 

"Tell me about Oxford, Mulder." 

"What's to tell? It's in England, sure, but it's just like going to school here, Scully. You study all the time, go to a pub instead of a bar. Get sick to your stomach a few times a week, just like any undergraduate. Pull all-nighters. Celebrate when exams are over. I got a little more self-disciplined when I did my advanced degree." 

"What about Phoebe?" 

The bomb was dropped. She didn't want to seem nosy, but she still wondered about the infamous Ms. Green. Mulder had been pretty forthright with his description of their relationship. Enough time had passed since Scully had watched them dance (and kiss) in the Boston hotel. She hadn't felt the least bit envious at the time, just annoyed at his unprofessional behavior. 

Now that they'd been partners over a year, now that she considered him the best male friend she'd ever had--she was curious, and not the least bit disturbed by a twinge of jealousy, swiftly tamped down out of habit. It was natural for her to be attracted to Mulder. They were constantly together. She hadn't been out on a date in ages, for goodness sakes. She knew he occasionally went out, but never seemed to see the same girl twice. She wasn't prying when she asked about Phoebe on a brisk spring night, was she? 

Mulder shifted in his seat uncomfortably, picking another shell out of his mouth and tossing it out the window. She wanted to know more about Phoebe. Okay, he'd tell her. 

"She cheated on me." 

Mulder looked over at Scully. He could see her expression in the moonlight, mouth wide open, eyes brimming with surprise. Was it so unbelievable a woman had been unfaithful to him? Did she think he always got his way? 

The only evidence she'd seen of his casual social life were voice messages from women wanting second dates. How long had it been since he'd had a second date? How long had he compared every one of them to his beautiful partner? 

He'd tried to distance himself from her last month by insisting she call him Mulder. It was the only time she'd called him Fox so far and he'd nipped the habit in the bud. Sure, he knew why he did that. He knew he didn't want another entanglement like Diana. Diana called him Fox, in bed and out. He'd be damned if his only female friend reminded him of her. He was over her, right? 

"I'm sorry." 

Scully touched his shoulder and he flinched away. The movement was involuntary; he usually welcomed her soft hands, brushing against him with concern or sympathy. Not tonight. Tonight he was thinking too much. Thinking about what could not evolve between them, what he had sought to prevent last month. He would not be able to suppress his feelings simply because she called him Mulder, not Fox. Her very presence meant the world to him, excited him in a way no other woman had. Dammit, he couldn't just get out of the car and run this off. 

He reached across the seat and touched her forearm lightly. "Don't be." 

She smiled and placed her right hand over Mulder's. He smiled back but the expression did not reach his eyes. They seemed full of emotion, pain she could not decipher. It was just as well she didn't know the source of that anguish. 

"It's been a long time, Scully," he continued. "I wouldn't have given her a single thought had she not come to the states about that case. I'm glad I didn't find out until I was about to leave England. It made it easier to make a clean break." 

"She's a bitch, Mulder." 

"Why, Miss Scully, I don't believe I've ever heard you say that word before," he replied in a bad Southern accent. 

"I'd never met Phoebe before." 

She grinned at him, then moved his hand so she could simply hold it on the seat beside her. He licked his lips nervously, smiling briefly. She didn't let go, and said, "Jack cheated, too." 

Mulder couldn't contain a small gasp. He couldn't imagine being unfaithful to Scully. She was so talented, so gorgeous, if he ever had her, he'd never stray. He hadn't even done so with Phoebe or Diana; he'd actually believed he was in love with each woman, until one deceived him and the other left for greener pastures. 

"It was inevitable. I wouldn't marry him. I was attracted to him but I found that I didn't 'love' him as much as just 'like' him. I guess it took almost a year to discover that fact. We had an amicable parting, but I did find out about the other woman eventually. The transition between me in his life and her in his life was a little too smooth." 

Mulder was very conscious she was still holding his hand and didn't dare move it. He asked curiously, "Did it last for them?" 

"No, like I told you months ago, Jack was an intense person, determined to catch criminals. He spent way too much time on the road and in the heads of bad guys for her. I think my relationship lasted as long as it did with him because I understood his drive, his mania for doing good. I think I would have stayed with him if I had loved him. He was a good man, you know." 

"Yes, that was obvious, Scully," he responded, feeling guilty for ever doubting that. He'd felt protective of Scully at the time, thinking Willis' motives were dubious from the start. 

"You're a good man, too," she said, tightening her grip on his fingers. 

Mulder stared at her, unable to speak. Her expression gave nothing away, nothing that would tell him what her words really meant. He'd have to figure it out himself, like always. She could be just as enigmatic as ever when they talked like this, which wasn't often, but was always memorable. 

Whatever she meant, he wasn't begging for an interpretation. He knew they'd both retreat to the close friendship they cherished, not moving forward in any significant physical way. 

Then why was she stroking his palm with her thumb, driving him mad? How long would she do that before he got the guts to pull away? When would she realize the effect she had on his increasing heart rate? 

Right about now, he reckoned. She dipped her head, made a soft noise in her throat and pulled her hand back to her lap. The moonlight was dim, but he knew she was blushing. Her fair skin glowed and she looked straight ahead, adjusting her clothes with her right hand. 

His phone rang and he answered it. The stakeout was off, suspect apprehended at the Canadian border fifteen minutes ago. 

It had been a good fifteen minutes for him, he thought. Perhaps he could persuade her to spend another hour with him before they called it a night. 

"Suspect captured, Scully. No more stakeout. Hungry?" he said cheerily. 

She turned toward him, smiling at his comically raised eyebrows. "Sure thing, partner. I could eat." 

fin 

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<http://www.geocities.com/shoshana1013/>   
  


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